


Break Them

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Forced Suicide, Gang Rape, Gen, Murder, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-10-13 18:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10519362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: After Harry is violently gang-raped and beaten, Ron and Hermione are driven to drastic measures to cope with the ensuing feelings of rage and loathing





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the LJ Dark Arts Horror Fest.
> 
> This is an idea I’ve had in my head for a while and I’m glad I’ve finally written it down. I would say please enjoy the story, but I don’t think it’s supposed to be that kind of enjoyable.

The badge is blue with silver stars and a glittery _18_ emblazoned in the centre. There is a crack right down the middle of it, and it’s splattered with mud. 

Hermione closes her hand around it, the pain of the pin stabbing into her hand a reminder that this isn’t a dream. It isn’t a nightmare. This is _real_. 

“Hermione?”

She glances up at the sound of her name and immediately wishes she hadn't. Her gaze travels right past Auror Robards and zones in on the blood stains on grotty ground of the alley, and on the tattered remains of clothes that were tossed aside as if they were nothing. _Worthless_.

“Hermione?” Robards says again, softly. “Hermione, I know you’re in shock right now but-”

“I want to see him,” she cuts in. “I want to see him. Now.”

“But the Healers-” Robards tries to protest, but this time it’s Ron who interrupts him.

“Take us to St Mungo’s!” Ron barks from where he’s still pacing the edge of the crime scene, unable to stay still. “Please, Robards.”

It is perhaps the break in Ron’s voice that makes Robards agree, and he Apparates along with them to the hospital. A Healer leads them through the corridors, and tells them that he is in good hands and that they found him with enough time to save him. He is alive, the Healer promises, but Hermione can’t believe it until she sees him.

They aren’t allowed in the operating room, but Hermione looks through the window and through the chaos of Healers she sees a shock of black hair still matted with blood, and a chest that is rising and falling heavily. Alive. Harry is alive. 

“Hermione.” Robards says her name again, and somehow it doesn’t even feel like her name anymore. “I know this is difficult for you, but I need to know exactly what happened; what you saw. The more details we have, the more likely it is we’ll be able to catch the attackers.”

Hermione doesn’t miss his use of plural, and the thought makes her feel more nauseous than she already is. 

They go to a small, quiet room, and Hermione talks. 

She tells Robards how a group of them had gone out drinking because that was what friends were supposed to do; they were supposed to have a good night together. She tells him that they drank cocktails and got so buzzed that less than a hour ago Hermione thought the feeling would never fade, but she isn’t surprised that seeing your best friend’s bloodied and battered body is enough to sober you up. She tells Robards how Harry disappeared at one point, lost in the crowd, and how none of them thought anything of it until it was too late. She tells him how they searched the club until finally she stumbled outside to the back alley and saw Harry on the floor, naked and bruised and battered, with blood staining his thighs.

Ron makes a choking sound, and Hermione can feel him trembling beside her.

Hermione goes on to tell Robards that she screamed, but nobody heard her because the music was too loud. She wonders, then, if Harry screamed; if Harry screamed and nobody heard him, and how long it took for Harry to realise that nobody was coming to save him. 

“Then I got the others and we contacted you,” Hermione finishes.

Robards thanks her for help and promises to be in touch the next day. “Please, both of you go home and get some rest,” he urges. “You need to keep your strength up.”

Hermione and Ron return to their apartment, and it is there that Ron breaks. He falls onto the bed, curling into himself as sobs wrack his body. Hermione molds herself around him and holds him close, but tears don’t fall from her eyes. No, instead the numbness she’s been feeling is quickly becoming replaced with rage, anger hot and burning. When she closes her eyes she sees Harry’s broken body and that rage grows, but she keeps it down so she can help Ron through the night. 

But when morning comes, she knows she won’t be able to rest until she has justice.

***

As soon as the sun rises Ron and Hermione are back at St Mungo’s, where Robards is already waiting for them.

He greets them with a nod, and gestures for them to follow him without a word.

“May I speak freely with both of you?” Robards asks once they’re alone. Ron and Hermione nod; they’ve already agreed they want to know _everything_ , no matter how painful it might be to hear. “The Healers have cleared the majority of Harry’s injuries and he’s awake and in a stable condition. The state of Harry’s injuries presented very clear evidence that Harry was sexually assaulted and raped by multiple assailants before being heavily beaten.”

Hermione grasps Ron’s hand and squeezes tight. Ron stares straight through Robards and doesn’t say a word, but Hermione can feel him shaking. 

“I have spoken to Harry,” Robards continues. “As have two female Aurors, one of whom has had specific training in working with victims of sexual assault. Harry is refusing to talk to us, and of course without his consent we won’t be able to effectively investigate the case. Unfortunately the crime scene is an area of heavy foot traffic and is also open to the elements, so we’ve been unable to recover DNA. I know this is a lot to ask, but if the two of you could talk to Harry and convince him to cooperate with us, I would greatly appreciate it. Without his account I unfortunately don’t believe we’ll be able to make a conviction unless one of the people from the nightclub somehow witnessed the attack—my team is tracking everyone down and interviewing them as we speak.”

Ron and Hermione share a glance. They both know what Harry is like; how he keeps his pain inside him; how he hates feeling like a burden. They agree, in that shared look, that Harry won’t talk no matter how much they try and convince him to, but it’s worth a shot. 

When they walk into the room that Harry’s staying in, Hermione feels her heart break. 

Harry looks so small and lost in the bed, swallowed up by a mass of white sheets and white walls surrounding him like a halo. His head jerks up fearfully when he hears the door open, and even when he realises who they are Hermione can still see the apprehension in his eyes. Harry draws his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around them, lowering his head until all they can really see of Harry is those vibrant green eyes that are heavy with pain and fear.

Harry isn’t going to tell them anything. 

“Hey, mate,” Ron says gingerly. “How are you…? Forget I asked.”

“You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me,” Harry murmurs, hugging his legs even closer. “How much more do you think I could possibly break?”

The sadness Hermione feels now somehow only urges her hatred on. She wants to find the men who did this to Harry and make them pay. But Harry isn’t going to talk. 

“We’ve been talking to Robards,” Ron says, touching the end of Harry’s bed. Harry flinches violently and Ron pulls his hand away sharply as though he’s been burned. He looks as nauseous as Hermione feels. 

“I don’t have anything to say to the Aurors,” Harry mumbles. “Please don’t try and make me. Please.”

Harry is crumbling but he still won’t talk.

“But Harry-” Ron tries.

“Please don’t,” Harry repeats. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ll be-”

Harry can’t finish his sentence, completely burrowing his face against his knees as his body trembles against the force of his sobs. 

Ron goes pale, and he hardly makes it out of the room before he’s retching, hands on his stomach as he hunches over a plant pot. Hermione rubs his back soothingly, and shakes her head when Robards appears at the end of the corridor. 

They spend the rest of the day in interviews, telling the Aurors about every person they can remember seeing at the nightclub. But nobody jumps out as seeming suspicious, or lingering around Harry too much. They were having a good night; nothing could have made them predict how the night would end. 

When the interviews are over, Hermione isn't surprised when Ginny comes to tell her that Ron has gone home already. 

Ginny looks like she hasn't slept all night, and Hermione knows how she feels. She pats Ginny's shoulder which nearly drives Ginny to tears. 

When Hermione returns home, she finds Ron on the floor in the bathroom. The mirror is smashed and Ron's hand is bleeding, clutched to his face as he trembles violently. He isn't crying, and when he looks up at Hermione his face is contorted with rage.

"I can't stop thinking about him, Hermione," Ron croaks. "I can't stop imagining what those bastards did to Harry; what they must have done to make him so...so destroyed. It makes me feel _sick_ , Hermione. Sick to my stomach. I just want to find the assholes who hurt Harry and tear them apart. He's not going to talk to the Aurors, is he?"

Hermione shakes her head grimly. "That's our Harry; no matter how hurt he is he'd rather deal with it himself."

"But what good is that going to do?" Ron cries. "The longer Harry stays quiet, the longer his attackers get away with it! They don't deserve a single minute of peace after what they’ve done!"

"We'll give Harry a day or two to talk," Hermione says. "And if he doesn't, well, I've been coming up with a plan to deal with that. Whoever attacked Harry isn't going to get away with this, Ron; we're not going to let them."

***

The following day Harry pushes his bed against the wall and refuses to talk or even look at anyone. The Healers try, and the Aurors try, and Ron and Hermione try, but Harry doesn’t budge.

The Aurors and the Healers reassure Ron and Hermione that it’s a common behaviour in rape victims and that it’s nothing personal. They tell them that they’ll Floo them if there are any drastic changes, but otherwise they recommend Ron and Hermione go home to rest.

They do go home, but they don’t rest; they plan. 

Another night passes, with Hermione’s sleep haunted by dreams of Harry screaming and her being unable to find him. Hermione can’t write them off as nightmares because it was Harry’s reality.

Harry is talking again the next day, but not to the Aurors. He’s made it quite clear that he isn’t going to press charges against his attackers, and Ron and Hermione have come to terms with that now. Forcing Harry to do something he doesn’t want to do isn’t fair, and with the plan in place Harry’s attackers are going to face justice anyway, tougher justice than anything the legal system will be able to deal out. Normally Hermione has faith in the Law Department, but she knows she wants the men who raped Harry to suffer a fate worse than Azkaban. 

Harry barely glances at them when they enter the room, and his face is tear-streaked and blotchy. Hermione hasn’t known Harry to ever cry as much as he has done in the last three days, even after everything Voldemort threw at him. This knowledge only cements in Hermione’s mind that she’s doing the right thing. 

“Good morning, Harry,” she says, trying to keep her tone light. “The Healers say they’ll be able to release you in the next couple of days.”

“Good,” Harry mutters. “I’m fed up of them and the Aurors poking at me.”

“They’re only trying to help,” Ron baits. They need Harry to open up, just a little bit, so they can implement the first stage of their plan. “Don’t you want to see those bastards who attacked you put away?”

“Or don’t you remember it?” Hermione pushes. “Can’t you remember their faces?”

Harry turns to look at them, his eyes almost glowing with venom. 

“I remember,” he hisses. “I remember _everything_ they did and everything about them. What is there to tell? How stupid and naive I was to leave with one of them? How weak I was to not be able to fight them off? How much of a fucking _slut_ I was, just lying there and taking it?”

Harry’s nails dig into the skin of his arm, and as soon as Hermione sees blood she jumps forward without thinking. Harry flinches and jerks back from her violently, the look on his face one of pure terror for just a few seconds, but those seconds seems to drag on and makes Hermione’s loathing towards Harry’s attackers grow even more. They didn’t just rape Harry; they broke his mind down, too. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione breathes. “I’m sorry, Harry. If you don’t want to talk to the Aurors then that’s okay; we want to support you no matter what you choose to do..”

“Definitely,” Ron agrees. “I’m sorry I pushed you; I just hate to see you this way, Harry. I’ve never seen you so… _distressed_.”

Harry shrugs. “I’ll be fine, I will be. But I’m not going to talk to an interfering Mind-Healer, either. I just want everyone to leave me alone.”

“We understand that, Harry,” Hermione says. “Anyway, Ron and I have brought you something; it’s a potion I brewed myself.”

“Potion? What kind of potion?” Harry asks sharply.

Hermione feigns sheepishness. “It’s not technically legal. But it’s a relaxant potion, of sorts. I’ve brewed this one weak so it will only last for an hour or two, but it lets users feel utterly blissed out and calm, no matter the circumstances. It’s not the sort of thing I’d normally approve of, but I thought you deserved just a little bit of time without the weight of what happened hanging over you.”

“It sounds like you’re trying to make me take the magical version of Weed,” Harry says, the smallest hint of a smile crossing his face for a moment before apprehension replaces it.. “Did anybody else touch it?”

“Just me, I swear,” Hermione answers truthfully. She wonders if Harry’s unease suggests his drink was spiked and he knows it, or if he’s simply untrusting all-together since the attack. 

“I’ll try anything if it makes me forget I’m a damaged slut, even if just for a little bit,” Harry says after a moment’s consideration.

Hermione purses her lips at Harry’s words, and Ron has clenched his fists. Harry said that far too casually, as if he believes it to be true, and so far all Harry is doing is easing Hermione’s guilt about the plan by proving that they’re doing it for the greater good. 

Harry downs the potion gratefully when Hermione passes it over to him, and it only takes a few seconds for the potion to take effect. Hermione lied about the strength of the potion; Harry really won’t be aware of much while the potion is in his system. 

When Harry’s eyes are glazed and his body is limp and relaxed on the bed, Hermione moves in. Harry is still awake, but he barely notices her there. He notices even less when she pulls out her wand and begins prodding at his mind.

Hermione took an interest in Occlumency ever since Harry had lessons with Snape, and she later discovered a greater interest in Legilimency. She taught herself both during the war, just in case she needed to utilise them, and she’s now using it to find memories of the attack in Harry’s mind.

They had no choice but to drug Harry for this. He would have never agreed to it, for one thing, and Hermione didn’t want Harry to be alert when she brought the memories of his rape to the front of his mind. She’d discussed the ethical implications with Ron earlier, but they’d both agreed that this would be the only way they could catch the bastards who hurt Harry. 

Hermione sifts through the memories quickly and with ease; she doesn’t want to intrude, after all. When she reaches the night of Harry’s birthday she focuses all of her skill, pulling at the threads until she finds what she wants. 

She sees a man go over to Harry and talk to him, flirting and smiling. The man leads Harry outside by the hand, nobody around them paying much attention. Still, Hermione wonders why no witnesses came forward, until the man’s face glimmers when they step outside and morphs into something different, a face different to the one people might have reported. A Glamour Charm. 

The attack was pre-planned, Hermione realises. They saw Harry, drunk and vulnerable, and made a plan to lure him outside so they could do what they wanted to him. Hermione forces herself to watch as Harry panics when five, large, foreboding men loom around him, trying to fight them off but his smaller size and his lack of sobriety working against him. One of the men tosses Harry’s wand aside and then they’re tearing at Harry’s clothes, not bothering to silence Harry as he does scream for help, because even the rapists know the music will protect them. 

Hermione feels nauseous as the men each take it in turns to push inside Harry brutally, laughing and grinning at each other while Harry goes limp and frozen, silent tears streaming down his face as he’s raped. They call him names; slut, whore, filth. They shove his face into the dirt and spit at him, hissing at him like a mantra. _Slut_. _Slut_. _Slut_. They tell Harry he deserves it. They tell Harry it’s his fault. When they’ve all finished they gather round Harry and kick him, over and over until he’s as bloodied and bruised as he was when Hermione found him. 

Hermione pulls away when she has what she needs, pleased that Harry seems to be none the wiser. She feels sick, and she knows she’ll be reliving the scene in her dreams, but at least she didn’t have to experience it; Harry doesn’t get that luxury.

“Did you see them?” Ron asks urgently. 

“I did,” Hermione says grimly. “I know their faces. And I know their names.”

***

Later, Ron asks Hermione to show her the memories. It takes some convincing, but eventually Hermione agrees. They’re both in it together then, both completely sure that they’re doing the right thing. The brutality the men showed when attacking Harry proves that they’re nothing but scumbags who don’t deserve the right to breath the same air that a sweet boy like Harry does.

Unethically obtained memories hold no validity in court, and the Auror’s investigation proved useless due to the location of the attack. The attackers will get away with it if Ron and Hermione don’t do anything, and they’re not prepared to let that happen. 

Marcus Flint. Adrian Pucey. Cassius Warrington. Terence Higgs. Lucian Bole. 

Hermione remembers them from school. They were big, tough bullies then and have since moved on to being rapists. Hermione would tear their dicks off if she could, but unfortunately that would raise suspicion. No, Ron and Hermione took a long time planning and everything is going to be neat and tidy. 

They hit Terence Higgs first. He’s the smallest and the weakest looking of the lot, the one who wasn’t quite as into it as the others. Ron and Hermione break into his apartment with ease, and Ron’s fast with the Imperius Curse. They force him to write a letter, admitting to the crime, before they make him leap out of the window of his high-rise apartment. 

When they go downstairs and see his splattered body on the pavement, there is a sense of satisfaction that makes Hermione feel _good_.

The others will think Higgs couldn’t stand the guilt. They won’t expect what’s coming next.

Cassius Warrington is the next one to go. This time it’s Hermione who uses the Imperius Curse, and she forces Warrington to write down his account of the attack so the Aurors will find what they’ll believe to be a memento. Then they make him fill his bath tub nice and high, and then climb into it until he slips under the water. The Imperius Curse keeps Warrington from thrashing, and soon his lips are blue and his chest is still. 

The others will think it was an accident.

Lucian Bole is the next target. An anonymous parcel makes its way to his home, where Ron and Hermione wait in hiding with a Bubblehead Charm over their mouths and noses. Bole notices too late that the spores released from the letter are poisonous, and he clutches his throat as he gasps for breath, clawing at the skin until he has no breath left to struggle for. The letter put the blame on Bole, just so the Aurors know.

As far as the other two know, they are the only ones who know the identity of Harry’s attackers. They will both suspect the other.

Ron takes Marcus Flint and Hermione takes Adrian Pucey. Despite their desperate attempts to protect themselves they were easy to find. The Imperius Curse is used again as they force the two to meet and duel. Eventually Hermione makes Pucey slash Flint’s throat; they wanted Flint’s death to be the most violent because he’d been the most vicious attacker.

They then force Pucey to write a letter of his own, cementing all five of them as Harry’s rapists and admitting to the murder of Bole and Flint, before they make him hang himself. 

Hermione feels much lighter since the murders, and not at all guilty. Each one of them deserved to suffer; it was only the risk of being discovered that stopped Ron and Hermione torturing the bastards. They didn’t want to get arrested and be forced to leave Harry alone again. 

With the fifth body found, the Aurors declare the investigation an open-and-shut case, and nobody ever even considers Ron and Hermione to be suspects. Instead the Aurors thank them for their support, and wish them the best with helping Harry emotionally until he decides he’s ready for therapy. 

Ron and Hermione leave the Ministry after their meeting with the Aurors with identical smiles on their faces. 

When they reach their apartment they go straight to Harry’s room. He’s on his bed, limp and flaccid with an empty potion vial by his side. Hermione knows she’s accidentally prompted an addiction in Harry, but his mind is so tortured that she can’t help but feel that for now, at least, Harry deserves some peace even if it is falsely induced. 

Besides, when Harry’s high is the only time he’ll allow Ron and Hermione to get close to him. 

Without a word they each slide onto the bed, one of them at each side of Harry, and hold him tight. Harry is soft and _real_ under Hermione’s arms, and she doesn’t think either she or Ron will ever want to let Harry out of their sights again. 

Hermione doesn’t know if Harry blames them, but she certainly does. She and Ron were the ones who were with Harry last before he disappeared from the club. They were the ones who left him to shag in the toilets. They were the ones having a good time while Harry was brutalised. On his _birthday_ no less. They were the ones who left Harry alone to get raped. It was all their fault. 

But they’ve killed Harry’s attackers. That was one way to make up for their mistake. Now they just have to prove to Harry that they’re willing to do anything it takes to keep him safe. _Anything_.


End file.
